


Nesting: Part Four

by babybasschick96



Series: Nesting [7]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Babies, Bat Family, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybasschick96/pseuds/babybasschick96
Summary: Tim's pregnancy progresses, and the family scrambles to try to keep him safe!





	1. Chapter One

“Building secure,” Dick’s voice filtered through the comms unit in Tim’s ear, and Tim felt the entire room sigh in relief as it did so.

“Any casualties?” he asked, reaching down to run an absent hand over his very swollen and very sore belly.

“Nope,” Dick chirped, and Tim could almost see the accompanying smile in his tone. “No casualties on either end. Manhunter got a bad dose of fire and Hawk Woman got caught up on a hit from Croc, but all-in-all everybody’s going to pull through.”

“Good to hear,” Tim gave a small smile of his own as he acknowledged Dick’s words and transcribed them down into the official Record of the Mission on one of the computer screens in front of him. “And the plan moving forward?”

“Hood and I are going to hang around long enough to get Croc shackled, and then he and I are going to return to Gotham and take over for the ladies so that they can have the rest of the night off,” Dick answered, a heavy metal thing that was most likely a door clanking loudly in the background, and Tim spared a second to look over at the video monitors to confirm that Dick had made his way out onto the roof of the building before he went back to typing. “Batman and Superboy are going to stay here to see Croc transferred to a facility, but then they’re heading back to the Cave to _dismantle_ for the night. Oracle is downgrading from standby for the League to full control of Gotham at the Tower, and Black Bat is to join Batgirl and Robin out on the streets. Impulse and A are to take over monitor duty at the Cave, and I’ve deflected no less than ten questions regarding Red Robin’s whereabouts since we breached the stronghold of the building.”

“Aww, Croc asked about me?” Tim cooed as he continued to type away at the keyboard underneath of his hands.

“Yes, he did,” Dick gave a laugh somewhere between a snort and girlish-giggle. “He was all concerned about you and stuff, too—wanted to know how much longer it’s going to be until you’re back.”

“Oh, please,” Tim rolled his eyes. “He just wants to know how much longer it’s going to be before he can try to bite my legs off again.”

“It’s been six months, Red,” the alpha soothed with a quiet chuckle. “People are starting to get concerned. Croc’s just worried.”

“Whatever, ‘Wing—tell him I said thanks for thinking of me, and I’m sure someone will let him know if something about my situation changes.”

“I’ll pass it along,” Dick agreed. “Any other messages you’d like me to deliver?”

“Tell Superboy I think that he has a nice ass?” Tim paused what he was doing long enough to zoom one of the building’s many security cameras in on said ass as he spoke. Kon was still inside—chatting with Croc as he floated a couple of inches above the ground no less—and whether Kon had intended to or not, he’d given Tim quite the angle.

“I think I’ll leave that one to you, Red,” Dick barked a laugh as Tim linked the video feed to the display console that Dick wore on his wrist during League Missions. “Superman might overhear and get jealous.”

“Hey, I never said where Superboy’s ass ranked against other asses,” Tim defended himself as he went back to typing up important things about the mission on his keyboard. “Just that it was nice in the first place.”

“That is very true,” Dick conceded with another laugh in his voice. “I guess I’ll pass along the message, but only after you’re back up and in bed, Mister—or at least up on one of the couches! I understand if you don’t want to wander too far away until the rest of us our back, but you need to get out of the Cave!”

“Fine,” Tim gave a long, dramatic sigh because he knew that fighting with Dick was useless.

“Good boy,” his eldest brother praised from the other end of the line. “Make sure Impulse or A let us know if there are any issues on your end. Batman will keep an open feed, and Hood and I will check back in before we leave.”

“Acknowledged,” Tim nodded his head, slipping back into his serious “Red Robin” voice for a moment as he notated Dick’s words. “If anything happens and you need me I can be back at the computer as quickly as Impulse can carry me.”

“Understood,” Dick nodded his head on the video feed—voice just as serious as Tim’s—and Tim appreciated the fact that Dick had enough respective for Tim to not argue or patronize him for his worry. The truth was that the Superhero gig was dangerous, and it was reasonable that Tim worried when he was left at home. “Nightwing out.”

The comms unit went silent as Dick cut off his feed, and a moment later Tim reached up to deactivate his own. It wasn’t easy—Tim hated cutting himself off from his pack and his mate, and he left the device in his ear as he started shutting down programs and logging out of his parts of the Cave’s systems—but Tim forced himself to sever the connection as he started shutting his brain down for the night.

Tim hardly ever _turned off_ turned off—except for when he was with Kon—but he _did_ compartmentalize, and Tim had learned the hard way that processing and analyzing a mission right before bed was never a good idea. The official Debrief would take place over the following few days. Different players would head up to the Watch Tower at different times to file their official reports and dissect everything had that gone well and what the League could have done better, and Tim would worry about scrutinizing the original plan then.

Tim’s hands had paused for the briefest of breaths as something moved in the peripheral of his vision, but they had resumed their work with the computer mouse and the keyboard as Tim realized that it had only been Amelia jumping down from where she’d been watching Damian take down various thugs on the monitors.

It was another handful of heartbeats or so before Bart more or less materialized at Tim’s side, but Tim continued to work as Bart settled his hands on his own hips, “You heard what Dick said, Tim—back up to bed with you. Alf and I have got it down here.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tim didn’t try to fight being edged out of the Cave by Bart anymore than he had with Dick because he knew that Bart and Alfred weren’t above physically manhandling him up into the Manor, but Tim stalled the speedster as he finished disconnecting his “personal” laptop from the rest of the computer’s mainframe. “Just give me a second.”

Bart gave a dramatically put upon sigh as he brought his wrist up to his face and watched the second hand tick by before he looked back up at Tim expectantly, “It’s been a second.”

“Thank you, _Impulse_ ,” Tim emphasized the codename in a way that wasn’t exactly friendly, but Bart hardly seemed phased as he took a step back so that Cassandra could lay a hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“Behave, please,” she murmured, fingers digging into Tim’s shoulder, and Tim dutifully leaned his head over so that she could press a kiss to the top of his head.

“I will,” Tim promised, reaching up to squeeze her hand back, before they both let their hands fall away and Cass stood back up straight.

“You, too,” she leveled Bart with a glare that was somewhere between threatening and fond, and Bart just grinned back at her until Cass’ body language closed off and she started making her way over to her bike, humming to herself as she went along.

Tim made quick work of closing down and saving the rest of his programs and things, only hesitating at the feed of Superboy’s vital signs for moment before Tim took a deep breath and closed out of that, too.

“I imagine I’m not getting out of this, am I?” he asked the room in general as he finally pulled his comms unit out of his ear.

“I’m afraid not, Master Timothy,” Alfred smiled over at Tim sympathetically from where he was still operating one of the bigger screens towards the center of the Computer. Tim had always preferred working with multiple screens where he could separate everything out all nice and neat with clear lines and borders in between each of the different things he was doing, but most of the rest of the Bats preferred the big screen, so Tim frequently left them to it as he sat aside at his own display.

“I’m taking my laptop with me.”

As far as Tim was concerned, that contingency was non-negotiable—Kon and almost the entirety of Tim’s pack was either away on the mission or out roaming the streets of Gotham, and there wasn’t a chance in hell that Tim was leaving his mobile command center behind when they might need him.

“If that is what you prefer, but I will be running the software that alerts me if it is on,” Alfred countered with an amused gleam in his eyes. Bruce had long since figured out that it was nearly impossible to ground Tim from Tim’s technology by simply taking Tim’s various devices away. The “World’s Best Detective’s Protégée” title wasn’t one that had been given to the third Robin lightly, and Bruce had yet to find a place to hide things that Tim couldn’t find when pressed. After more than a year of the same routine—Bruce confiscating Tim’s laptop and Tim stealing it back within a couple of days—Bruce had finally just designed an application to notify himself whenever Tim’s computer was in use, and Bruce had simply resulted to smashing computers when Tim had tried to tamper with it, so Tim had reluctantly given into his fate (and resorted to borrowing Kon’s computer whenever Bruce had decided to punish Tim). “Doctor Thompkins and I have very specifically prescribed that you avoid stress, and I do not want you associating yourself with this mission any further unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“Fine,” Tim resisted the urge to pout as he grabbed his sleeping laptop off of the desktop and pushed himself up out of his chair with a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh.

The trip up the stairs to the Manor was far from the most pleasant one that Tim had ever taken—he was sore and stiff from sitting in the same position for too long, and every step jarred his only-recently re-healed ribs painfully—but Tim refused to let Bart carry him, and instead distracted himself with Bart’s mile-a-minute babbling until they’d finally stepped past the Clock Face.

“—And then, I said…hey, Tim?” Bart trailed off with a concerned undertone to his voice. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Bart,” Tim huffed, running his free hand over his belly again to ease his unhappy child—using the motion to hide his flinch from Bart as the speedster deftly slipped the laptop from Tim’s grasp. The increased levels of Kryptonian Cells in Tim’s body were wonderful at helping to heal damage inflicted upon Tim’s body from outside (and not so outside) sources, but they did little to help ease the ordinary discomforts of being pregnant, and Kon’s pup was unpleasantly big even without factoring Tim’s tiny frame into the equation. At least the baby had sat high for most of the pregnancy and hadn’t wrenched Tim’s hips apart for months, but Tim’s womb had dropped three inches in the week leading up to the mission and Tim had long since lost track of the number of bones and organs that the pup had managed to break or bruise. “I just don’t like being away from Kon for so long. I never know what his schedule is going to be when he’s working with the League or how long it’s going to be until he comes home, and Pain-In-The-Ass Junior here isn’t nearly as squirmy when he’s around. I swear Kon’s already his favorite and _I’m_ the one who’s been incubating him for seven damn months.”

Kon had been amazing, absolutely amazing in the months since the family had figured out that Tim was pregnant. He’d stayed by Tim’s side and held Tim’s hand as Tim puked his guts out in the morning and all of the other supportive things that alphas were supposed to do for their omegas as Tim struggled to adjust to his newfound cargo and all of the lifestyle changes that came with being pregnant. On top of being pulled off of patrol and taking a sabbatical from the League, Tim had temporarily signed the company back over to Bruce and placed himself on house arrest in an attempt to keep prying eyes away from his growing belly. Most of the first month Tim had been confined to his bed as his health swung back and forth, and most of the sixth and seventh months had been the same. Kon had tried his best to keep the baby calm with his strong body and his soothing TTK, but both the League and the farm had needed Kon, too, and it wasn’t very long after Tim had hit the expected five-month mark that the baby’s kicks had started damaging the muscles crisscrossing Tim’s abdomen. The broken bones had followed not too longer after, and even though they had healed quickly, Tim had still been in agony as they did so. Thankfully, the baby had settled some as the sixth month had faded into the seventh, but Tim had still spent Christmas with a couple of broken ribs and fatigue so bad he hadn’t been able to stand up.

“Wow, pregnancy has really changed your mouth,” Bart chuckled good-naturedly as he waited patiently for Tim to get his breath back about himself. “Are you sure it’s safe to be talking like that around your kid? I thought swearing was a sign of bad parenting?”

“You know I really hate you sometimes?” Tim glared up at Bart once he was finally able to straighten up as much as he could.

“Yeah, I do,” Bart nodded his head and grinned—completely un-offended by Tim’s words as he held up Tim’s laptop up. “Where do you want this?”

“Just on the counter is fine for now,” Tim answered him, letting his annoyance go as he moved to waddle his way down to the kitchen. “I think I’m going to head up to bed and lay down for a little bit, but I want to grab a bite to eat first.”

“Okay!” Bart chirped, and a light breeze ruffled Tim’s hair as Bart took off ahead of him. Thankfully, Bart had possessed the foresight to turn on the light before he’d perched himself up on one of the barstools tucked up underneath of the counter’s edge, and Tim made his way over to the oven as quickly as his tired feet and sore pelvis would allow him. “What are you going to make?”

“A flatbread,” the buttons on the oven beeped as Tim set it to preheat—sparing a second to open the door and make sure that there wasn’t anything inside of the appliance, before he closed it again and shuffled his way over to the fridge.

Flatbreads had been Tim’s go-to since he’d expanded his sustenance intake—a nice compromise between Tim’s regular diet and all of the added carbohydrates the family was trying to shove down his throat to help his body heal all of the damage—and Tim’s cloud nine had been the tomato, mozzarella, and basil kind. It wasn’t that Tim had completely eliminated carbs from his diet before the baby. To the rest of the family’s point, carbohydrates were essential to the body’s natural process of repairing itself and as a vigilante, Tim was almost always dealing with one form of injury or another. But having said that, Tim’s digestive tract had never handled carbohydrate-rich foods well, so Tim had “saved” his carbs for sandwich breads and steamed fresh peas and the meals that he shared with the rest of the family. Flatbreads had always been a guilty pleasure of Tim’s, though, and had Kon requested that Alfred make some for Tim once it had become clear that the constant pasta dishes and pancakes extravagances were making Tim sick.

Tim had been weary at first and the various takes on “Chicken ______ Flatbread”, had only made the situation worse, but Alfred had whipped up a Zucchini one as a last ditch effort somewhere around the first time that the pup had shattered a rib, and that had gone much better. The “Margherita” ones had been Tim’s favorite—something about the tomatoes and cheese just sent Tim straight to cloud nine—but anything vegetable or fruit was passable, and Tim had indulged himself more than he was willing to admit.

“Oh, that sounds good,” Bart vibrated in his seat.

“It will be,” Tim hummed as he started pulling things out of the fridge and piled them into the crook of his left arm. “You want one?”

“Sure,” Bart nodded his head, and Tim automatically grabbed another couple of basil leaves from the sprig that Alfred had stored in the fridge for Tim’s convenience. “It won’t take long, will it?”

“Shouldn’t,” Tim shook his head as he grabbed the last things that he needed—two of the homemade flatbread crusts that were a never ending gift from Jason and his wonderful culinary skills since he’d found out about Tim’s obsession, and the chunk of mozzarella sitting beside them—and let the fridge door fall closed behind himself. Years of practice of handling too many different things kept all of the various packages and ingredients in Tim’s hands, but the cheese and the top of the two flatbreads fell to the counter as Tim came to a stop across from Bart. “If Alfred needs you in the mean time, the light over the sink will flicker.”

“Really?” Bart looked up the light that Tim spoke of disbelievingly.

“Yep,” Tim nodded his head as he organized the ingredients around an empty space big enough to fit the cutting board that he knew he would eventually need.

“But…” Bart bit his lip as he looked back down at Tim. “Isn’t that kind of obvious?”

“Not really,” Tim shook his head, reaching down to open the drawer that Alfred had stocked with a collection of all of the things that Tim used on a regular basis to make his meals when Alfred and Jason weren’t around. Traipsing around the kitchen was nearly impossible in Tim’s impregnated state at times, and Tim appreciated not having to dig through the cabinets on top of everything else that he was going through. “It’s more like a faulty-wire-looking-thing than anything else, so people don’t really question it, and it gives Alfred a good excuse to slip away down to the “basement” to check the electrical panel if he’s entertaining guests. The ruse has come in handy more times than any of us can count, and it’s a lot better than a red light flashing or a siren blaring through the house going, “Alfred, report to the Batcave! Report to the Cave! Bruce or one of his children has done something inconceivably stupid and needs you to came and make it all better. Preferably before the Joker breaks in and calls Superman so that he can get the Big-Bang Ending he’s been planning all along instead of having to watch all of his dreams crumble to nothing as Batman bleeds out on the Batcave floor from a Batarang wound he accidentally inflicted upon himself.”.”

“That is true,” Bart snickered as his eyes flicked back up to the light. “Now that you explain it, it makes since. I’ve always figured that you guys have some kind of a signal system set up that I don’t know about—I mean aside from the ones that I _know_ you guys have—but I’d never put that much thought into what they could be other than strictly hypothetically speaking. I’d always assumed it was some kind of big elaborate thing like the floor tiles moving under your feet, or that there was some kind of frequency that you sent through the air that us mortals couldn’t hear.”

“While those would both be good ideas, and I might mention them to Bruce at some point in the future, no vibrating tiles and no frequencies,” Tim mused as he unwrapped the crusts and laid them out on the small baking sheet he’d pulled from the drawer. “At least not that I know of. Damian has a bell rigged to ring in his room anytime one of us sends out a distress signal, but the last time that I checked speedsters and mortals alike could hear it. In fact, I’m pretty sure the only person who _can’t_ hear it is Damian, and I have barged into his room and ripped it off the wall more times than I can count because Dick has deemed it an appropriate way to wake Damian so that the two of them can go to breakfast on Sunday mornings.”

“I can see Dick doing that,” Bart snorted a laugh as he watched Tim reach for the butter tub and the duller of the two knives he’d grabbed.

“You have no idea,” Tim’s nose twitched in aggravation as he went about smearing previously made garlic butter over the pieces of bread.

It didn’t take much longer for Tim to his “dinner” of sorts finished once he’d started in on cutting up the tomatoes and the basil. Tim had cooked so many of the flatbreads that he’d gotten the process down to a science, and with Bart there to speed certain parts of the more time consuming aspects along, it took even less time than Tim had expected.

Having the time to just sit around talking with Bart was nice—the flatbreads had taken eight minutes in the oven no matter how fast the Fastest Man Alive was—and further discussion of the baby had been left alone. Bart had scarfed his flatbread down the second that he had pulled the pan from the oven for Tim, but Tim had given his a couple of minutes to cool before he’d grabbed a carton of Strawberry Swirl Ice Cream from the freezer and headed for the stairs.

Once again, Tim struggled. Bart carried Tim’s laptop and food so that Tim could have his hands free to help support his upper body weight, but Tim was still back to panting by the time they’d come to a stop outside of his and Kon’s room with Tim leaning forward against the doorframe.

“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Bart asked again, concern furrowing his eyebrows as he balanced Tim’s laptop and plate on top of the carton of ice cream.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Tim nodded his head, ignoring the twinge of unhappiness in his stomach as he held out his hand for his things. “I’ve got more than everything I need up here—Dick and Kon have made sure of it. Dami and Jay and Bruce, too. Besides, you need to get back down to the Cave. Babs and Alfred are going to need an extra hand when the team splits up.”

“Alright,” Bart agreed reluctantly as he handed Tim’s laptop and food over. “But call me if you need something.”

“I will,” Tim gave a wane smile that he knew came off as forced, but a second later Bart was gone anyway—a breeze “wooshing” down the hall the only evidence of his departed presence.

Tim remained in the hallway for a moment, staring towards the stairs that Bart had zipped down, before he stepped into his bedroom and sighed as the door swung shut behind him and he was finally left in the silence and comfort of his own space.

Tim had always been a bit of a nester with his need to have things around him that reminded him of his family—Bruce had taken to keeping blankets in various rooms of the Manor and Cave long before Tim had actually come to live with him—but every inch of Tim and Kon’s room had been meticulously arranged with the optimal level of comfort for _both_ of them in mind, and that knowledge alone relaxed Tim just as much as anything else as he made his way across the floor.

The safety and solitude of the room packed all of Tim’s worries away neatly where Tim couldn’t pull them back out and mull them over if he had even tried, and Tim could feel the weight of the world lifting off of his shoulders as he let the cooler air of the room soothe the aches from his strained and screaming muscles. Whoever had left the room last had left the lights on, but instead of being annoyed, Tim was actually thankful for it as he set his plate and the ice cream down onto the nightstand by his side of the bed. The laptop was dropped onto the bed, and Tim fished his phone out of the pocket of the pair of Kon’s sweats sitting around his hips so that he could send a quick message to the family letting them know that he was officially off line for the rest of the night. Tim hesitated just a moment longer to send a second, more personal, message to Conner before he tossed the device down onto the comforter next to his laptop and waddled his way over to the large en suite bathroom.

Most of the vigilantes weren’t talented enough to be able to text and work at the same time. Some of them (Bart) weren’t even allowed out on patrol with their phones, but some of them could handle the responsibility and Kon was typically pretty good about only checking his phone when he knew he knew it was safe to do so, so Tim never worried about reaching out to him while Kon was on the job.

Tim’s trip to the bathroom wasn’t particularly long. He did his business as quickly as he could and washed his hands before he headed back into the main part of the room, but it did take him a solid five minutes to climb himself up onto the bed.

One of the few concessions that Kon had made when he’d come to the realization that Tim didn’t have any plans to move out of the Manor anytime within the foreseeable future was that Tim had to get a bigger bed so that Kon could stretch out and get comfortable without having to worry about accidently pushing Tim off of the side in the process. The stipulation that it needed to be tall enough that Kon didn’t have to climb up out of it every morning had quickly come on the heels of his first demand, and while Tim wasn’t entirely sure why those two things had been so important to Kon, they were, so Tim hadn’t argued.

For the most part, Tim hadn’t minded. He knew that Kon put up with a lot from him and the taller (and comfier) bed had _definitely_ had its perks over the years—especially with the complications that their growing pup had brought about—but starting around the forth or fifth month in, the extra height had proved to be a little bit of a challenge for the short omega, and the father that the pregnancy wore on, it was all that Tim could do to get himself up on top of the covers without his super-powered partner’s help.

Somewhere along the way, somebody had suggested that Tim get a step stool or a ladder of some sort so that he didn’t risk falling or hurting himself, but Tim was stubborn and so fiercely independent that it was near obnoxious, and the one that Steph had picked up for him after a particularly vicious fight somewhere back around the sixth-month mark sill sat unopened in the bottom of Tim and Kon’s closet, even though Tim and Steph had long since made up.

Tim managed to get himself up onto the bed, though—lifting himself up with his hands on the edge of the bed and stretching one of his legs up nearly parallel to the bed’s edge so that he could hook his foot up onto the mattress and use it pull himself forward—and he gave the room in general a satisfied smile as he settled back against the pillows.

Reaching for his phone had been a habitual move as much as it had been a decided one, and Tim tapped off a quick response to Kon’s response before he dropped the device back down onto the bed beside his leg and reached for the TV remote on Kon’s side of the bed. It was an awkward and slightly uncomfortable stretch for Tim to be able to grab it, but after a quick struggle, he pushed himself back up into a sitting position and flipped on the TV with one hand as he grabbed his plate off of the nightstand with the other.

Before the pregnancy, Tim had never particularly enjoyed watching TV or eating in his bed. In fact, Tim had never particularly been comfortable with doing anything other than sleeping (or spreading his legs for Kon) anywhere near his bed before the pregnancy. Tim’s bed was for relaxing and sleeping, and the flashing colors of the television set his mind wandering down paths it shouldn’t go and abrasive crumbs set his teeth on edge and made his fingers itch for a lighter to set the Manor on fire. The TV had been moved to a wall mount and upgraded to a bigger screen so that Kon could channel surf while Tim slept curled up next to him on their rarely shared mornings off when Kon had unofficially moved in, and Tim’s recent bed rest had swayed Tim’s opinion on the subject a little bit, too. Tim still didn’t particularly like it—and an extremely strict no-crumb rule had been put into place—but if nothing else, the pregnancy had taught Tim perspective and it was just too much work to get up and waddle over to the little sitting area most of the time.

There wasn’t much good on TV as Tim flipped through the channels idly, but he did find some old _How It’s Made_ reruns on the DVR after exchanging another text or two with Kon, and Tim was just hitting play as his phone buzzed out its call notification.

“Hello?” Tim set the remote down on the nightstand with one hand as he answered the call with the other—his plate long since nestled down onto his lap.

“Hey, beautiful,” an obviously happy voice crackled back over the line in response, and Tim let his head fall back against the pillows and the headboard as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Hey, handsome,” he absently picked up a piece of his flatbread as his voice slipped up a half of an octave or so and his toes curled down against the soft fabric of the comforter. “You busy?”

“Nope,” Kon’s denial was immediate and so welcome that Tim’s heart fluttered and he fidgeted in his seat. “You mind keeping me company for a little while and talking to me with that pretty voice of yours until Croc’s ready to go?”

“Not at all,” Tim answered Kon quickly, taking a quick bite of the ooey-gooey cheese and tomato-y goodness and swallowing before he turned his attention back to Kon. “I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night if you’ll let me, and I might just be willing to show you some things when you get home, too.”

“Oh, really?” Kon chuckled as Tim took another bite.

“Mhmm,” Tim hummed through his full mouth and nodded his head against his phone in affirmation even though he knew that Kon couldn’t see him.

“Well, I guess I better see if I can get off early, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Conner did have several apartments that they frequented before Tim became pregnant, but for the most part the two split their time between the Manor and the Farm, and have been spending almost all of their time at the Manor in an attempt to keep Lex (and other various villains) from finding out about the impending super baby.  
> “Manhunter” will infinitely refer to Martian Manhunter with me, and I’m sorry if that is confusing.
> 
> Once again, welcome back, and thank you for taking the time to read! This Part has six chapters as it currently stands, and I don’t really expect that to change as I edit it (but weirder things have happened!). We are back to focusing on Tim and Conner, but Jason and Dick have their appearances, and Part Five will go back to focusing on the older mates (and whether we get a JayDick baby, too!).
> 
> A note on biology: as you can see, as Tim’s pregnancy continues to progress we explore Omega biology more and more. While I don’t want to say too much at this point in time for fear of spoilers, there are some things I would like to explicitly state before we go any farther.  
> First and foremost—omegas in this ‘verse are capable of giving birth naturally—in other words, things down south expand far enough that the pup won’t automatically need to be removed through a Cesarean Section (because I put waaay too much thought into universe building, and while Cesarean Sections have been around since ancient times, it has only been with the advent of modern medicine that they have become safe for both parties involved, and I can’t bring myself to mass-slaughter a disproportionate amount of parents or pups). As has already been hinted at through various terminologies, omegas do not have a separate “vaginal” opening, but rather the anus and rectum function slightly differently than a human’s in order to accommodate access to the uterine cavity for mating and birth (which is located off of a fictional piece of intestine between the colon and the rectum)—much like a human female’s vagina would.  
> Second of all—the bodily changes that come along with birth still pose complications, and therefor omega babies (or pups) develop a little bit differently than a “beta” or a “human’s” would. Pups are significantly smaller and only incubate for approximately eight months, in comparison with the normal human nine. At the time of birth, pups are still able to eat and breathe on their own, but they are significantly more reliant on their parents as their eyes and nervous systems haven’t finished developing yet (kind of like kittens or baby bunnies in comparison to human development at birth). Because of this, pups grow and change differently through out their first couple of years of life. After about two or three months of an extended infant stage, they undergo rapid changes (though they still stay small) until their growth finally stagnates around five or six months—and they then stay in that cute little babbly phase longer than most human children do.  
> It’s still a little early in the story for those distinctions to really make a difference and I will go farther into detail as we go in the narrative and they become relative, but we’re getting to the point where characters are starting to make passing references to what is going to come, and I don’t want to confuse anybody.
> 
> As always, I will update as quickly as I can, and please feel free to let me know what you think :)


	2. Chapter Two

Unsurprisingly, Kon hadn’t been able to get off early—in fact, he’d been out even later than expected because of a traffic jam and a Mr. Freeze-driven attack on the convoy transporting Croc back to Gotham—but Tim also hadn’t minded all that much. It wasn’t uncommon for the unpredictable to interrupt the League’s plans, and Tim had actually been kind of thankful for the chance to do some things around his and Kon’s room without the rest of the family breathing down the back of his neck.

Kon had stayed on the phone through the entirely of Tim’s flatbread and about half of Tim’s pint of ice cream, but the transport truck had shown up eventually and he’d ended the call with promises to keep Tim updated on his progress.

Tim hesitated only long enough to eat another four or five bites of his ice cream before he set the tub aside and scooted himself back off of the bed. Another pain stopped him in his tracks for a moment, but three or four minutes later he was grabbing one of the laundry baskets that Alfred had placed inside of the door some time earlier in the day so that he could start folding the clean clothes and towels inside. Alfred had offered to fold them—just like he’d offered to do any number of other things for Tim—but Tim was painstakingly particular about how he wanted his laundry folded, and with all of the new additions that Tim and Kon had acquired in preparation for the baby, it was just easier for him to do the folding by himself.

Besides, it was therapeutic for Tim—made him feel like he was accomplishing something in his restricted state, even if Kon would have to put most of it away after he’d gotten home.

Changing the linens on the bed had taken longer. It was hard for Tim to spread out the sheets and get them flat like he wanted with the size of his belly, but the height of the bed had helped, and Tim knew all of his struggles would be more than worth it in the end. Tim had detoured to the bathroom for a third time after that—the second trip having taken place while Tim was folding the laundry—and then he had taken a half of an hour or so to finish packing the diaper bag for the baby. Tim’s “safe” labor date was still two weeks away—and his due date another two weeks beyond that—but he figured that he might as well go ahead and get everything ready for the hospital so that he didn’t have to worry about it as they stepped closer and closer to the day.

Personally, Tim was trying very hard not to think about how far along the baby and his body had progressed because the birth plan that Tim had laid out with Dr. Thompkins was not the one that he wanted _at all_ , but it was what Bruce, Clark, Alfred, and Dr. Thompkins thought was best, so Tim had relented…at least for his first labor—Bruce and Alfred had another thing coming if they thought that Tim wasn’t going to fight tooth and nail to get his home birth if he and Kon were ever blessed with a second miracle. While Clark had been able to give Tim and Bruce some insight as to what Kryptonian births and babies were like once Bruce had finally been able to convince him to come to the Cave, Tim and Kon still had no idea what to expect once their pup had decided that it was time to come out. Tim’s womb clouding over around the second month hadn’t helped anything, and Tim had little reason to believe that that the effects of the Kryptonian Cells would stick around after the placenta had been detached and delivered (for the organ was what was allowing Tim’s body to absorb and process the cells anyway). Dr. Thompkins wanted Tim at the hospital around the “infinite” number of supplies with the thought process that at least _something_ was going to go wrong, but Tim honestly didn’t see the point. The Cave was better stocked and equipped to handle the baby, and either Tim was going to be okay or he wasn’t. Trying to explain away the damage to the surgeons or nurses attending to his case would be more trouble than it was worth, and Alfred and Dr. Thompkins would end up being the ones to handle Tim in the long run anyway.

The diaper bag stock had ended with a fourth trip to the bathroom, and once Tim had finished washing the soap from his hands, he’d decided to take a shower in the hopes of relieving some of the mounting stress in his back. Showers had been one of Tim’s few comforts as his body and his baby raged war against each other, and it was always nice to dry off afterwards and slip into a clean set of clothes.

Steph had gotten excited and ordered literal _trucks_ full of maternity clothes after she had found out that Tim was pregnant (though, they were only small trucks), and Tim had tried for the first couple of months. He’d gotten up and gotten dressed and put quite a bit of his newfound free time into looking the part of the homebound omega, but eventually Tim had given up and sent most of the clothes off to various second-hand stores and charities throughout the city when he’d realized that a pup didn’t make him any more of a “trophy mate” than he was before he’d gotten pregnant. Kon’s clothes fit just as well as anything else, and they didn’t make Tim feel like he was sticking out like a sore thumb.

Tim hadn’t meant to fall asleep after he’d crawled his way back up into his and Kon’s bed. He was only going to lie down for a moment to catch his breath and relieve some of the swelling in his feet, but the pillows had been so comfortable and Tim had just been so _tired_ … The next thing that Tim knew, though, the hallway door was creaking open and he was blinking his way back to the world of the living as he struggled to sit up underneath of the weight of his stomach.

“…Kon?” he called groggily. “’S ‘at you?”

“Yes, love,” Kon answered, and Tim felt his panic subside enough that he could flop back down against the mattress as Kon quietly closed the door behind himself. “It’s me. Are you okay?”

“Mhmm,” Tim gave an incoherent noise of reassurance as he nodded his head against his pillow, and a second later he smiled as Kon’s hand smoothed over his hip.

“Good evening, love,” Kon brushed a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

“Hi,” Tim caught Kon’s thick fingers between his own and lifted them up to his lips so that he could press sleepy kisses to them as he turned himself over onto his back. “How’d the rest of the mission go?”

“ _Long_ ,” Kon gave a soft snort, but his features stayed relaxed as Tim moved his lips up over the smooth skin of Kon’s left palm. “But it’s over now and I’m here with you.”

“That you are,” Tim agreed absently as his stomach muscles peaked through an unexpectedly strong cramp before they released again. “Did everybody else get home okay?”

“Yep,” Kon nodded his head. “Jason and Dick are out in Gotham with Dami like they planned, but Cass is already in bed and they should only be out for another hour or two.”

“Good,” Tim hummed with a satisfied air about himself at knowing his pack was safe before he trailed his kisses up to the scent gland on the inside of Kon’s wrist and smiled as he watched Kon’s pupils widen in surprise and desire.

“Tim—“

_“Kon,”_ Tim purred back in what he hoped was a seductive tone, and a fresh wave of his pheromones gave away his intentions as he sank his teeth into Kon’s scent gland with a soft moan.

“Are you sure?” Kon raised his eyebrows down at Tim—ever the gentleman—and Tim unceremoniously reached up to grab the collar of his shirt in response.

_“Yes!”_ Tim nodded his head as he broke away from Kon’s ever-so-wonderful-tasting skin, and a high-pitched moan followed his consent as he dragged Kon’s face down to his own.

“Mmph,” Kon gave a guttural groan as Tim’s tongue slipped into his mouth and demanded the world, and Tim’s hands fell to Kon’s t-shirt in a frantic attempt to get the fabric up over Kon’s head as Kon pushed himself up on to the bed and crawled his way overtop of Tim’s frame.

“What do you—what do you want?” Kon panted as he pulled away from Tim’s mouth long enough to pull his shirt over the top of his head. “Tell me what you want, baby, and I’ll do it.”

“Kisses,” Tim threaded his fingers up into Kon’s shower-damp hair, and Tim felt his entire being throb as Kon pushed up into Tim’s grip with a groan. “I want—I want kisses, Kon. Keep…kissing me… _please_.”

“Okay,” Kon agreed, his hands slipping up underneath of Tim’s shirt as he leaned back down to plunder Tim’s mouth like Tim had requested. “I can—I can do that. I can kiss you for as long as you want.”

“Mm,” Tim let out another high pitched moan as Kon’s body settled back on top of his, and no matter how many times the two had been in the same position before, Tim would never stop being surprised at how good the promise of Kon’s knot pressed up against his inner thigh felt. “Kon?”

“What?” Kon’s lips and teeth fell down to Tim’s jaw and throat so that Tim could speak, and Tim resolutely ignored the growing discomfort in his lower back.

“My shirt—I want it—I want—“

“Off?” Kon guessed, and Tim nodded his head as he shuffled in place and tried to sit up again—wiggling his hips to get a better center of gravity before he finally arched high enough that Kon could get his shirt up over his ribcage. “’Course, love.”

“Th-thank you,” Tim preened as he fell back down against the pillows.

“’Welcome,” Kon hummed, his hands back on Tim’s aching belly as he bit and sucked his way into Tim’s mouth, and Tim reached up to return the touch—to run his hands up over Kon’s abs and chest and down Kon’s beautiful sides—only to stop when the motion sent a sharp pain through his stomach.

_“Ah!”_ he gasped, eyes squeezing shut and breath leaving him in a gasp as his shoulders lurched forward and his hands flew to his stomach.

“Tim?” Kon was immediately concerned, and he shifted back to his haunches as his TTK slipped up underneath of Tim’s shoulders to help support Tim’s weight. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Did the baby break something else?”

“No,” Tim shook his head, struggling for breath as tears streaked down his temples. “No—‘s just a cramp. I’ll be fine—“

“I don’t know a lot about babies, but I don’t think that’s just a cramp, love,” Kon argued, his eyebrows furrowing as some of the lust-clouded look bled from his eyes. “I can _see_ your stomach muscles moving through your skin.”

“Tha’s normal,” Tim started to protest, but another noise of pain cut off his words as his stomach muscles flexed even tighter. “A-at th-this time in the-the preg-pregnancy—“

“No,” Tim distantly knew that Kon was shaking his head, but Tim was too busy closing his eyes and groaning against the pain to acknowledge the movement or Kon’s words. “No, Tim—this really isn’t normal. I think you’re having contractions. We need to get you to a hospital—“

“Can’t be,” Tim shook his head, his thighs clamping down around Kon’s thighs painfully as his entire torso pulled impossibly tight. “Not s-safe for another t-two weeks—“

“Due for what?” a third voice chirped from over by the door and Tim’s eyes snapped open as somebody who was quite obviously not his mate dared to enter their nest.

“An audit,” Bart flinched at the unexpected sarcasm in Tim’s tone as Tim craned his neck to glare at the speedster, and Tim realized belatedly that Kon must have hit one of their emergency call buttons while he hadn’t been paying attention. “What do you think, Bart?”

“I didn’t know—“

“I think Tim is going into labor,” Kon cut Tim and Bart’s squabbling off with a concerned edge to his tone as he continued to run his hands over Tim’s slackening frame, and his TTK tickled painfully at Tim’s insides as Kon tried to get a feel for what was going on underneath of Tim’s skin. “Was he having contractions or doing anything weird earlier?”

“What?” Bart’s face screwed up in confusion as he vibrated closer to the bed but very deliberately kept Kon’s shoulder and thigh in between himself and Tim’s shoulder, and Tim was eternally grateful for that. “No—absolutely, not! He was perfectly fine when I brought him up here, earlier! A little grouchier than normal because the baby was moving around and hurting him, but he would have told me if something was wrong…”

Two sets of eyes slowly fell to Tim’s face as realization set in, and Tim found that he couldn’t hold either one of their gazes as he sniffed against the tears that were still leaking out of his eyes even though his muscles had relaxed.

“What’s going on in here?” Bruce growled from the doorway, but Tim didn’t bother looking up at him as he and Alfred stepped into the room. “Somebody hit a call button and there are stress hormones all over—is something wrong?”

“I think your son is in labor,” once again it was Kon who answered, and while the words were just a step above a growl, his thumbs were gentle as they rubbed comfortingly against Tim’s skin.

“Oh, my,” Alfred made a small noise of surprise, and Tim finally forced himself to look up—only to be confused by the second alpha floating behind Bruce, a pair of sweats and a long sleeved t-shirt covering his form instead of a suit of blue and a cape of red no less. “That’s quite the accusation, Master Conner. May I ask why…?”

“He’s having contractions,” Kon answered. “Can you take a look at him—“

“Of course, Master Conner,” Alfred eased, deftly stepping in between Bart and Kon as Bart backed a step away so that the butler would have room, and Tim made a noise of discomfort as Kon pushed himself up from in between Tim’s legs and climbed back off of the bed. “I hate to be a bother, Master Timothy, but could you possibly scoot a little closer to the edge of the bed?”

“Sure, Alfred,” Tim nodded his head as he reached up to wipe some of the tears from his face, and some awkward shuffling later had him laying at the very edge of the bed with his head on a single pillow as Alfred started poking and prodding at his belly.

“So, Master Conner says that you’ve been having contractions?”

“I don’t really know if I’d call them _contractions_ ,” Tim started to launch himself to a rambling rant about it not being _that bad_ , but Kon’s growl from off to his left stopped him.

_“Love.”_

“Yeah, okay—I’m having contractions,” Tim admitted, looking up at the ceiling as not-Kon’s fingers brushed over some particularly painful bruises. “Or _something_ that’s not right.”

“Are they painful?” Alfred asked, his lips pursed in thought as he made certain measurements that Tim didn’t even try to follow.

“Well, they hadn’t been until just now,” Tim mumbled as TTK brushed comfortingly through his hair, and Tim could sense Kon only a couple of steps behind Alfred—hovering worriedly as he watched Alfred work. “I mean I’ve still been through worse, and it’s nothing that I can’t handle, but—well—the one I just had wasn’t like anything else I’ve ever experienced.”

“I see,” Alfred hummed, but Tim knew that Alfred knew Tim’s pain tolerance well enough to take Tim’s words with a grain of salt. “And how long are they lasting?”

“Not too long,” Tim shook his head as he thought back over the mental log he’d been keeping. “Most of them haven’t been more than like forty-five seconds, but every few will last a little bit longer. I had one last night that lasted—like—five minutes, but it eased on its own, and none of the rest of them have even lasted half of that amount of time.”

“Five—“ Alfred’s eyes widened in shock—that piece of information clearly throwing him farther off of his guard than it had thrown Timothy—before he readjusted his stance by the bed and looked back down at Tim seriously. “How long _exactly_ have these been happening, Master Timothy?”

“Since about an hour and a half before the team left for the mission yesterday?” Tim wasn’t entirely sure what the answer to Alfred’s question was—wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been asleep before Kon had come home—but he was fairly certain of that much. “They started out happening like every thirty-eight minutes or so, but they’ve slowly been getting faster I can already feel a third one coming on, and I’ve had two others since Kon came in—or, well, I’ve had one and a half. I think I was coming out of it as Kon woke me up. The full one—the one that Kon felt—was just before you guys came in.

“Well, in that case,” Alfred gave another soft sigh as he took a step back from the bed, and Tim closed his eyes as the room held its breath because they all knew what Alfred was going to say. “I’m afraid I have a phone call I need to make. Master Conner, Master Allen—please, finish getting Master Timothy dressed and ready to go. Master Bruce, if you could inform the rest of the family and wake Ms. Cain up while Master Clark goes down to start warming up the car…?”

“Of course, Alfred,” Bruce nodded his head, but Tim completely missed what he said next as his back muscles cramped tight and suddenly Kon was back over top of him—the fingers of his left hand replacing the TTK in Tim’s hair as the fingers of his right threaded down into Tim’s left.

_“Kon,”_ Tim whimpered again, squeezing Kon’s hand tight as the pain wrapped around the front of his stomach and his muscles visibly started to seize again. “I’m two weeks early. I can’t—I can’t—“

“Shh,” Kon soothed, shifting until he was once again sitting on the edge of the bed by Tim—his torso curled over Tim’s chest protectively as he settled their conjoined hands down against his thigh. “You need to focus on breathing right now, Tim.”

“But, the baby—“

“Is part Kryptonian,” Kon spoke over Tim’s noise of pain, and Tim focused on his voice as white-hot pain burned through his insides. “Kryptonian’s have different gestational periods than humans do. We have no idea how long this baby needs—“

“Kryptonian’s gestate longer than humans do,” Tim rebutted with a sharp glare, but his voice was too rough with pain to really carry the weight of his annoyance.

“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong, love,” Kon completely stepped off script and confused Tim by pressing a kiss to Tim’s lips, but Tim was too dazed to do anything other than watch in confusion as Kon turned to respond to Bart’s call of his name.

“Hey, SB?”

“Yeah?” Kon’s voice was low and distracted, but he very obviously kept his lips pulled down over his teeth to keep from accidentally flashing his canines at the speedster.

“I grabbed a bag out of your closet and shoved it full of some clothes—do you want a clean shirt for Tim?”

“Yes, please,” Kon nodded his head, and Tim’s attention drifted as he absently nuzzled his face over into Kon’s hand, and barely a second later he had unconsciously bitten back down into the scent gland on Kon’s wrist. “My thicker sweaters are in the top rectangular drawer on the right, grab me the—the bu-burgundy one. It s-should be warm enough for him. My t-t-shirt should be fine for me. You k-know where are our stuff in the bathroom is?”

“Yep,” Tim vaguely grasped that Bart had nodded his head, but Tim was too busy focusing on the taste of Kon flowing over his tongue. Kon’s pheromones wouldn’t dull the pain forever—more than anything, they just distracted him—but they were offering temporary relief from the anguish that was coursing through Tim’s body, and Tim laved his tongue over skin pinched between his teeth as Bart and Kon exchanged a few more words before Kon’s lips were brushing against Tim’s temple.

“Is it easing?”

“Yes,” Tim nodded his head, finally releasing Kon’s gland as he lengthened his licks to include the entirety of Kon’s wrist.

“We need to get you dressed,” Kon’s warm lips trailed down to Tim’s cheek, and Tim let his eyes flutter closed once again. “If we can get you ready before your next contraction, I can have you down in the car before the next one after that starts.”

“I need shoes,” Tim turned to kiss Kon’s lips as he dropped Kon’s wrist and let his right hand fall to his spasm-ing belly again, and Kon’s hand settled down onto the side of Tim’s face consolingly. “And some socks.”

Tim wasn’t sure why _that_ was what he was concerned about, but it was the only thought aside from the softness of the bed that Tim could make sense of, so the worry came tumbling out of his mouth.

“Bart’s already got them,” Kon smiled as he pulled back far enough that he could look at Tim—his eyes sparkling as they flicked over Tim’s features—before he leaned down and pressed one last kiss to Tim’s lips. “Now, come on.”

Kon gave Tim’s right hand one last squeeze before he pushed himself back up to his feet and slipped his arms underneath of Tim’s shoulders and knees.

“Before you have another contraction and lose your courage.”

“Before I have another contraction and lose me courage,” Tim agreed as Kon effortlessly settled him back onto the edge of the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on scent glands and pheromones: humans, as you may know, have many different endocrine glands throughout their bodies that produce any number of hormones—sexual or otherwise. Similarly—alphas and omegas (as I’ve written them in this story) have many different scent glands throughout their bodies that produce different hormones (because I largely envision scent glands as glorified endocrine glands).  
> The largest scent gland on an omega’s body is the bonding gland located in their throats along side their human thyroid (the ones that I have simply referred to as “scent glands” throughout the narrative). These glands largely regulate the pheromones that others can “smell”—the omega’s stress pheromones, and their “alluring” sexual pheromones, for example—and are extremely sensitive to stimuli. A bond (on an omega’s behalf) is formed when an alpha quite literally bites down into the organ and the alpha’s saliva chemically bonds to the organ and alters the balance and make-up of the omega’s pheromones (hence, an omega’s scent drastically changes, and being exposed to certain of their alpha’s pheromones can physically calm them).  
> Alphas, by comparison, don’t have an enlarged bonding gland in their throat. They do have an “extra” gland there by a beta’s standards, but it is roughly the same size as the scent glands down in the wrists and throughout the other parts of an alpha’s body. Mostly the smaller alpha gland secretes various hormones and chemicals into the alpha’s saliva (those hormones that attach to an omega’s bonding gland). The largest alpha scent gland is located in the pelvis, specifically above the part of the pelvis that elongates down into the…manhood (I’m only working with an M rating here). As blood rushes south for an alpha to form an erection, the pelvic scent gland experiences an influx of blood as well, and that is why alphas scent so strongly while aroused. The resulting onslaught of hormones is what leads to the enlargement of the knot into a knot, and the addition of the pelvic scent gland is what leads to the semen overproduction in alphas as well (which, I’m not sure if I’ve narratively touched on yet, so…spoilers). Some of the other scent glands throughout an alpha’s body produce “scent” hormones as well—Tim bites down onto Kon’s wrist in this particular chapter for both arousing and calming reasons—but they aren’t nearly as prolific as an Alpha’s pelvic gland. Omegas have pelvic glands as well, but they are located deeper within the pelvis alongside the uterine cavity (and are essentially what act as the omega’s ovarian factories or “colloquially” their ovaries, but that’s an explanation for another day).


	3. Chapter Three

“Jonathan.”

“What?” Kon looked up.

“I want to name him Jonathan,” Tim clarified, tears blurring his vision even as he grew surer of his decision. “Jonathan Bartholomew.”

“Jonathan Bartholomew,” Kon tried the name as he looked back down at the baby boy swaddled in his arms, and Tim let out a tiny sob at how perfect the two of them looked.

Kon had been taken with the pup the second that the obstetrician had pulled his screaming little figure the last couple of inches out of Tim’s body and held him up for the world to see. Tim had been, too—sobbing out unexpectedly as he heard the little wails before the pup was unceremoniously thrust into Tim’s arms, and suddenly Tim was staring down at a little, red, writhing ball of blood and good and unhappy flesh—but Kon’s reaction had been something else.

From an intellectual standpoint, Tim knew that a lot had happened in the hour or so that had followed the pup crowning, but most of it was a hazy blur filled with nurses, and the baby, and Dick’s smiling face.

Tim’s labor had been long, and hard, and while the baby was still on the smaller than average side for non-caste babies, Alfred’s predictions for the infant’s size based on the growth of Tim’s stomach were accurate, and Tim had endured the sixteen hours between Kon waking him up and the placenta birth without traditional pain medications. Bruce still wasn’t entirely sure why, but Kryptonians reacted negatively to all forms of analgesics, and no body had been willing to experiment on Tim when the baby’s life was still at stake. After the baby and the placenta had passed, Dr. Thompkins and Bruce had administered a closer to normal regiment of medications, but without the placenta to process Kryptonian Cells and nutrients, Tim could feel the healing factor of the Kryptonian Cells slowly slipping away.

Tim had been allowed to hold their pup for twenty minutes and administer his first bottle of a couple of ounces of donated breath milk before a nurse had come to gently pry the pup away for the rest of his testing.

Neither Tim nor Kon had been particularly happy about that, but they realized why it was necessary (even if just for appearances sake), and Clark had stealthily followed after the nurse and his grandson under the guise of slipping out to use the bathroom.

Dick, Bruce, and Clark had all three been in Tim’s room throughout the entirety of the birth, but Clark had mostly hung back to the sides and left Bruce and Dick to help Kon keep Tim comfortable and motivated while Clark kept a move vigilant eye on the baby and the medical professionals gathered around Tim’s lower half. The obstetrician that was in with Dr. Thompkins hadn’t particularly liked having so many people in the room, but Tim had refused to proceed without them around, and the extra hands had proven useful when she’d found out that she was only allowed having two of her nurses in the room with her.

Both Bruce and Dick had handled Tim and his obvious discomfort with ease. Dick had stayed on Tim’s right as Kon occupied Tim’s left, and the alpha had been just as helpful and supportive of Tim as he had always been—giving his hand over for Tim to squeeze and recording video of Tim reverting back into broken Cantonese and French to ream Kon out through the worst of his contractions. Jason, Damian, and the rest of the family had stayed out in the waiting room, but Dick had sent Jason text message updates as often as Dick could, and Dick had slipped out of the room to go update them shortly after the nurse had taken the pup away.

Tim hadn’t bothered to keep up with what the rest of the family was doing regardless of the updates that Dick had given him—he’d been too consumed with what was going on with himself and the baby to really care—but Tim knew that they had refused to leave the floor, much to the hospital staff’s dismay.

“Jonathan Bartholomew,” Kon repeated the name a second time before he looked back up at Tim. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Tim nodded his head as he squeezed Kon’s hand tightly within his own, the fingers of his free hand coming up to trace along the soft skin of their son’s cheek, and Kon shifted closer so that Tim didn’t have to reach so far. The pup stirred in his sleep underneath of Tim’s touch and gave a broken yawn before he turned into Tim’s fingers and half-nuzzled at them instinctively. “I’m sure.”

It was still too early to tell, but Tim knew in his heart of hearts that his pup was going to look just like his paternal daddy. His eyes were still closed, and would remain so for at least another week, but even his elongated pup face was square like Kon’s and the tufts of soft black hair on the top of his head could have actually _been_ Kon’s from the feel and look of them, and Tim was perfectly okay with that. There were more than enough things in the world that Tim had left his mark and his name on, Kon could leave his on their son.

All parties involved aware of Kon’s true heritage had worried about what would happen after the pup had been removed from the safety of Tim’s womb, but it hadn’t taken very long for Kon to confirm that the baby didn’t pose any threats to non-enhanced entities after he’d crowned—at least for the moment. His skin had proven harder to break than a normal human’s, but Tim and Bruce had both predicted as such, and Dr. Thompkins had swapped the standard neo-natal supplies for some reinforced ones that Bruce had made when none of the other medical professionals had been looking. The doctors and nurses had also noted that the baby was stronger than he should have been for his size—especially as the offspring of an alpha and an omega—but his strength only equated to that of a small toddler’s, so the medical staff involved hadn’t asked too many questions. Babies, after all, weren’t an exact science.

Both Tim and Kon had been able to feel and sense a light tingle of what could have potentially been TTK pushing against their persons and Kon’s TTK as they held and admired the baby. Neither Bruce nor Clark had been able to feel or see it, so Tim and Kon had grudgingly admitted that it was still too early to tell, but Kryptonian “powers” usually fell into a form of dormancy during childbirth as a safeguard for both the baby and the maternal parent, and the strength of him in-womb certainly suggested that powers were going to manifest themselves eventually.

“Jonathan Bartholomew Kent,” Tim declared, as he continued to pet his fingers over their pup’s tiny face. “After your grandfather and one of our best friends.”

“I—I like it,” Kon admittedly sheepishly as his eyes tracked over Tim’s fingers and their baby’s features. “But what about…don’t you want to honor Bruce and his parents or whatever it’s considered, too?”

“No,” Tim shook his head, scooting along the bed with some difficulty until he was right on the very edge of the bed by Kon. “I thought about it, but I want to leave Bruce and Thomas for Damian—in case he would like to pass them on—and I think the only one of us what has the right to take away from him is Dick, even with the truce that Damian and I have developed over the years. I would consider using Damian’s name with how amazing he’s been over the last couple of months and how amazing I know he’s going to be with helping us take care of our little one, but Bart has done a lot, too, and I have a feeling that having two “Damian”s in the same household might get a little confusing. Bruce knows how thankful I am for everything that he’s done for me and for the two of us, and he doesn’t need me to name my son after him as some kind of substantiation. He’ll understand.”

“That is very true,” Kon hummed his agreement as his gaze flicked up to Tim’s. “And your parents?”

“I…I’ve forgiven them for what they did to me,” Tim looked down as he thought about what he was going to say, before he looked back up at the beautiful man who had helped him to come to terms with the very things that Tim had needed to bestow his forgiveness for. “They were doing what they thought was best by denying what I am, and they weren’t deliberately trying to hurt me; but regardless of their intentions, they did hurt me— _badly_ —and I don’t want them or their legacy anywhere near my son. I will tell him about them, and I will try to show them as much mercy as I can in passing along their story because my father tried to remedy things with me in the end, but having their heritage end with me is the price that they will pay for their crimes. I will not force the hate and resentment that their family showed me onto my children. Ever.”

“Okay,” Kon nodded his head as he reached up to guide Tim forward into a chaste but all encompassing kiss. “As long as that’s what you want, it’s perfectly okay with me.”

“It is,” Tim nodded his head in confirmation, a fresh new wave of tears stinging his eyes.

“C’mere, love,” Kon murmured as he smiled a loving sort of smile and pulled Tim forward for another round of kisses, and Tim just barely had time to smile back before suddenly they were only one. “I love you, Tim. I love you so much. Thank you for my son— _our_ son.”

“Oh, Kon,” Tim half-choked in return, his own hand coming up to cup Kon’s chin as they continued to share kisses. “You’re welcome—you’re so welcome. Thank you for giving him to me. I love you, too—always have; always will.”

“I know,” Kon reassured, and coming from anybody else Tim might have felt that the words were arrogant or egotistical, but coming from Kon—in their situation—Tim appreciated them. He appreciated them so damn much that the next set off kisses all ran together until a tiny little squeak of a cry shocked them apart.

_“Ah!”_

Tim’s attention immediately fell to the bundle in Kon’s arms—the omega searching for and ready to eliminate whatever was causing their son discomfort—but the baby quickly settled down after another yawn and a stretch, and Tim quickly deduced that he had just needed a little more room.

“Here,” Tim shifted until he was back in the bed properly and reached his hands back out to Kon and the baby. “Give him to me. I want to hold him for a little bit.”

“Okay,” Kon nodded, and Tim didn’t need to feel the air around him move to know that Kon had enveloped the baby in a light layer of his TTK as he half-stood from his seat to pass the baby over into Tim’s arms. It took a little bit of shuffling and situating to get both pup and omega comfortable, but the baby was settled back into Tim’s arms after only a couple of seconds of fear on Tim’s part that Tim or Kon would accidently drop him and one or two wiggles of annoyance from the baby.

“Hi, there,” Tim whispered down at his slightly scrunched and misshaped face, cheeks still wet as he cradled the baby to his chest and gently patted at the baby’s back in a move that was so instinctual, Tim didn’t even realize he was doing it. Kon hovered over both of the two of them, one hand still on the blankets bundled on the baby’s side and stomach—somewhere between mildly concerned and so enamored with the newest addition to their family that he didn’t know what to do with himself. “Hi, baby. How are you doing? Are you okay?”

The baby was obviously too young understand what Tim was saying, and Tim knew that, but Tim watched in fascination as the baby’s little body squirmed at the sound of Tim’s voice. A squeaking coo accompanied the movements, and a second later the baby followed the trail of Tim’s scent until his face was half-buried into the hospital gown that covered Tim’s chest.

“He’s beautiful,” Kon murmured, his breath warming Tim’s face due to their proximity.

“He is,” Tim agreed, reaching up with his non-encumbered hand to readjust some of the baby’s blankets. “He’s going to look just like you and Clark.”

Tim didn’t have any doubts.

“We’ll see,” Kon didn’t agree with Tim, but he didn’t argue either, and Tim figured that was good enough for the moment. Only time would tell which one of them was right. Regrettably, Tim’s breast tissue was too scarred from previous injuries for Tim to breast feed, but a volunteer group would provide donated milk through the hospital until it was safe to switch the baby over to a specialized formula after the two week mark.

Things were quiet for a moment as both alpha and omega watched and listened to the little breaths whizzing in and out of their pup’s nose, until Tim let his head fall back to the pillow behind him as it lulled to the side so that he could look up at Kon.

“Hey, Kon?” he asked quietly, his cheeks still damp from the tears he’d shed barely moments ago. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah?” Kon’s eyebrows rose as he turned his attention to Tim without hesitation or delay.

“Bite me?”

“’Course,” Kon pressed a kiss to Tim’s lips as a strong arm settled itself underneath of Tim’s to help support the baby. Kon then trailed his kisses down Tim’s jaw to Tim’s throat, until finally he was sinking his teeth into Tim’s scent gland with a light groan. A rush of unexpected warmth washed through Tim, as it always did, and Tim was letting out a breathy sigh as he melted back into the mattress of the bed and willingly succumbed to whatever else it was that Kon wanted to do.

Scenting wasn’t something that Tim and Kon did often—in fact, aside from when Tim was in heat, they hardly scented at all, at least when it came to the whole kit and caboodle of Tim offering up his scent gland and Kon complying—but having Kon mark Tim with their son in Tim’s arms felt right, and Kon was so bursting full of love and affection that Tim didn’t want to fight the instinct.

Tim knew that Kon had never meant anything nefarious by marking Tim. To Kon it was just a show of affection that had nothing to do with society’s notions of “possession”, but Tim had been deprived of scenting with his parents when he was a child because they had refused his omega status, and therefore the whole concept was a very foreign and painful subject for the smaller man. Accepting his bond with Kon had been easier for Tim, because a mate bond was never really something that he had yearned for until after he’d hit puberty and was surrounded by other, more encouraging role models, but allowing Kon his first bite had taken time. The act of scenting on a familial level was just as instinctual for alphas and omegas as it was for those on a mated level, and to be denied that by a parental figure had been detrimental to Tim’s development. His scent gland was extremely malformed from overproducing hormones while he was a child, and the skin and muscles around it were horribly scarred from all of the infection and irritations it had incurred over the years without the exposure to another’s pheromones.

As a result, it had taken Tim years to consent to scent with Dick on a brotherly level, and Tim had run away and spent the next two hours uncontrollably sobbing at the influx of hormones and emotions that coursed through his body before Dick had been able to find him and ask what was wrong. Another twenty minutes had passed before Tim had been able to calm down enough to tell him, and no matter how hard Tim tried, he would never forget the way that Dick’s face had fallen upon realizing what Tim had gone through right underneath of his and Bruce’s noses.

Sharing heats and ruts with Kon had been natural for Tim—a part of their relationship that Tim had yearned for from the very beginning of the unusual courtship—but Tim had pushed off consummating their relationship as bonded mates for as long as he could, because Tim knew that it was the smart thing to do. As in love and chemically dependent as Tim and Kon had already come to be when Kon came back to life, many things had changed in the months since Kon had died, and Tim knew that they needed time to reacquaint themselves with one another before they did something that they were potentially going to regret. Many conversations had followed their initial agreement to enter into a relationship about how they wanted the rest of their lives wanted to go, but the decision to officiate their bond ended up being made in throws of one of Tim’s heat, and Tim hadn’t really had the time to think about what they were doing or be embarrassed after Kon had started licking and nuzzling at Tim’s scent gland before latching on after Tim had tipped his chin and bared his throat in encouragement. Hormones had flowed too quickly and too freely after Kon had finally gotten a good grip, and Tim had been a quivering mess before the consequences of what they’d done could hit him.

Bonding with Kon—taking some of Kon’s scent and giving Kon some of his own in return and finally cementing the relationship that they’d been building and the ‘pseudo bond’ that had formed between the two of them long before either one of them had been old enough to start thinking about such things seriously—had been…it had been ethereal. So all encompassing and soothing to Tim’s soul, that Tim hadn’t known what to _do_ , and that had scared Tim for a while. He’d never had anyone in his life that he had been able to rely on other than Dick or Bruce, and to finally have that—to feel it in his _bones—_ was overwhelming.

Understandably, it had taken Tim some time to adjust after he’d come back to himself, and Kon had obliged him through out. While Kon hadn’t had a parental figure as he was developing, CADMUS had exposed him to both alpha and omega hormones to stimulate scenting with a parent, so nothing about the process had seemed weird for the Kryptonian. Kon had understood where Tim was coming from, though—Tim’s abnormal hyper-hormonal reactions were more than enough of a testament to the abuse he’d suffered over the years—and Kon hadn’t minded holding back on the scenting aspects of their every day relationship so long as Tim could compromise on scenting during their heats and ruts. Tim had acquiesced that request easily, sharing their bond was important to him too, and after they’d bonded the first time, Tim didn’t think he would ever be capable of _not_ bonding with Kon during one of his heats or Kon’s ruts.

Tim and Kon’s pup changed things, though, as scenting between newborns and their parents helped to familiarize the child with their parents’ scents and catalyzed certain chemical reactions throughout the child’s body, and Tim found himself hooking his free hand around the back of Kon’s neck as he whimpered out his alpha’s name.

“Kon.”

“Mm,” Kon grunted in response, eyelids fluttering as he inched even closer to Tim and extended his bite to include the entirety of Tim’s scent gland and not just where Tim was marked. Tim shifted his hand and half-scratched at the base of Kon’s skull in response—a gesture that Tim had been amused to find was endlessly enticing for the alpha—and cursed every deity that he could think of that the only thing he could feel below his belly button was pain.

“Kon,” the Kryptonian’s name slipped past Tim’s lips for a third time, resulting in an even harder bite. Tim let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a sigh, and in spite of the amount of pain Tim was in, his legs still fell open even wider than they had been as Kon climbed up onto the bed beside him. Tim was just about ready to demand that Kon start touching him somewhere or let his jeans fall to the ground so that Tim could start touching Kon when—

“Hey, Tim?” somebody knocked on the door and opened it a couple of inches so that they could poke their head into the room. “You awake? I—oh.”

“Dick?” Tim slurred as Kon broke away from his neck with a noise of confusion as Tim lifted his head as much as he could to look towards the door. “Dick—‘s everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Dick nodded his head, shifting about and pulling the door back close to his body so that nobody passing behind him would be able to see into the room. “Everything’s fine, baby bird. Jason and Dami were just getting tired from where they’ve been up all day, so they were wondering if they could come visit for awhile before they go home to get some rest, but I can tell them that you aren’t feeling up to having company just yet, and they can go home now and come back later—“

“No,” Tim shook his head, simultaneously trying to answer his eldest brother’s question and clear his head at the same time. Tim shifted the baby to his left arm without even thinking, and reached down with his right to try to push himself back up into a more acceptable position for entertaining the rest of the family from where he’d fallen while Kon was biting him. Seconds later, he felt Kon’s hands back around his body to help him, while Kon shifted until he was facing the wall behind the head of the bed as he collected his thoughts and regained control of certain parts of his body. “No, Dick—it’s okay. You guys can come in. Kon and I weren’t doing anything that can’t wait until later.”

“Are you sure?” Dick looked between Tim and the back of Kon’s head with his eyebrows raised and his cheeks a little red. “Because it’s really not that big of a deal—“

“Yeah, Dick,” Tim rolled his eyes as much as he could as Kon helped to maneuver Tim’s throbbing behind until Tim’s back was pressed up against the inclined head of the mattress. “I’m sure. Just give me a second to get sat up.”

“Okay,” Dick nodded his head, still looking a little unsure but dropping the argument in favor of stepping back out of the room and pulling the door closed behind himself as he called to what had to have been the rest of the family down the hall.

“Sorry about that, Kon,” Tim apologized as he settled back down into the sheets with an exhausted huff of a breath and readjusted the awake and fussy baby’s weight back over both of his arms. “I want to spend more time with you, but Jason and Dami need to get some sleep—“

“I know,” Kon soothed, shifting the pillow into a more comfortable position behind Tim and running a hand down the side of their baby that wasn’t rested up against Tim’s chest, and just fretting over Tim and the baby in general. “I figured they would be in eventually, and Dick and Bruce need sleep, too. Besides, I would have kept on biting you all day if given the chance. Better for Dick to walk in and break it up than one of the nurses.”

“That’s true,” Tim gave a small smile as the baby finally settled back down into his arms. Kon hadn’t gone after one of Tim’s brothers in years even in the thick of one of Jason’s heats or Kon’s ruts, but nobody had been willing to experiment any further on strangers after the incident with Tommy Terror. “Thank you for helping me sit back up and stuff.”

“You’re welcome,” Kon leaned forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to Tim’s forehead before he ducked down and ran his own against the abused skin of Tim’s neck with a deeply sated sigh in a completion of their interrupted ritual.

Or what would have been the end of their interrupted ritual, if it weren’t for the bundle of blankets in Tim’s arms. Without thinking, Tim lifted their son up until he was on level with Tim’s collarbone after Kon had pulled far enough back that Tim had enough room to do so. Kon’s hand brushed underneath of Tim’s forearm and Tim carefully guided their son forward until his little forehead was pressed to the same spot that Kon’s had been barely a second before.

Tim didn’t hold the baby there long—only five or six seconds had passed before Tim had maneuvered the baby back into his arms—but a few more tears spilled from Tim’s eyes as he did so. Kon pressed another kiss to Tim’s forehead as Tim reached up to frantically wipe the salty tracks from his cheeks, and muttered quiet reassurances as he absently rubbed some of the excess spit away from the baby’s skin.

“We’ll do this again later, okay?” Kon asked tentatively, lips still pressed to Tim’s forehead.

“Yeah,” Tim nodded his head, sniffing and wiping at the last of his tears, even if he knew that his cheeks were still splotchy and red from where he’d been crying. While it was uncommon for an alpha to be involved in the scenting process between an omega and their child, the first couple of weeks of life were a little different, and Tim had no doubt that Kon was going to take advantage of the opportunity while he had it. “That sounds good.”

“Okay,” Kon nodded his head, too, pressing one last, lingering kiss to Tim’s lips as the swung open across from the foot of the bed.

“Mind if we come?” instead of Dick it was Bruce’s head that popped through the opening in the door, and Tim could smell the rest of the family behind him. Bruce looked tired, but there was a relaxedness to his body that Tim rarely saw, and Tim couldn’t help but smile as he shifted anticipatorily in his bed.

“Nope.”

“Come on in,” Kon added when Bruce looked to him for permission after Tim had shaken his head before Bruce finally let go of the door handle and pushed his way into the room proper. Usually, Bruce wasn’t so formal in addressing the alphas of the family, but it was a special day and Tim didn’t mind.

Bruce’s journey into the room was the slowest in comparison to the rest of the family. His steps were calm and self-assured as he came to lean against the windows overlooking the parking lot on the opposite side of Tim from Kon, but stopped with more than enough room for him to see Tim and the baby around the monitors that were hooked up on that side of the bed, and Tim knew that the assertion he’d made earlier in his conversations with Kon was right. Bruce understood where he stood with Tim, and neither one of them needed the name of a baby to corroborate that.

Dick and Jason came next as a unit. Dick led the way until they’d made it through door and Jason abruptly brushed past him at the sight and scent of the baby. Dick faltered at being pushed aside, but he recovered well as Jason perched himself on the side of the bed closest to Kon down by Tim’s feet, and Tim caught the small smile that pulled up the corners of Dick’s lip as he made his way over to stand behind Jason. Jason was careful to leave a certain amount of distance between himself and the baby out of respect, but Tim felt his large hand fall to Tim’s shin, and Tim smiled as he shifted his leg so that it pressed up against the warm muscle of Jason’s thigh. The third omega looked tired—probably the worst off of all of them besides Tim himself—and Tim just hoped that all of his pain and discomfort would pay off in the end.

As soon as Dick caught up to Jason, the alpha reached up with one of his hands to run his fingers through his mate’s hair, as the other fell to Jason’s shoulder, and Jason arched up into the touches immediately. Tim had never seen a more instinctually driven pair than his older brothers, and Jason’s head tilted back just about as far as it would go before Dick moved to where they could lock eyes at a more comfortable angle for Jason. Jason’s grip around Tim’s leg slackened as Dick bent down to press a kiss to the bridge of Jason’s nose but it tightened once again when Jason relaxed back into his seat. The omega leaned his weight back against Dick’s hips and thighs as the alpha pushed himself back up into a more proper standing position, and Tim’s smile grew as both of their gazes turned back towards him and the baby. Dick looked tired, too, but he wasn’t swaying on his feet like Jason had been, and his shoulders still held some of their usual strength and confidence, especially underneath of the attention from his omega. Tim would be able to convince him to go home with Jason after Jason had been properly introduced to the pup, and Dick would insist upon lying down with Jason after they got back to their apartment or the Manor. Dick would then fall asleep the second that his head hit the pillow, despite his reassurances to the contrary, and he wouldn’t wake up again until Jason had coerced him back to consciousness again with the promise of food or sex, and that was perfectly okay with Tim.

Alfred came in behind Dick and Jason—dressed for once in his life in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt after helping the obstetrician deliver the baby—and while he hadn’t outwardly shown the excitement that Jason or Dick had, he did have a misty-look to his eyes, and Tim know he would be crying before it was all over. Tim had never met any of his own extended family, all of his relatives had either passed on before Tim was born or were so estranged that Tim hadn’t been told stories of them until after Tim was old enough to ask Bruce—of all people—so, Alfred was the only grandfather-type figure that Tim had ever known. Of all four of the boys, Tim had relied the least on the butler because he had been so independent even before he had come to live at the Manor, but Tim loved Alfred regardless, and was quite happy that the beta was there to share in the moment with them as a member of the family instead of as their butler.

Much like Bruce and Dick, Alfred dropped his chin in a show of submission to Kon as he stepped closer, but unlike the others he stopped at the end of Tim’s bed and didn’t try to move closer as he rested his hands down against the little plastic rail that acted as the foot board of the bed.

Cass entered the room next, but Tim wasn’t surprised or offended in the least when all she did was send a small smile his way before she crossed over to Bruce. Of all of the people that Tim and Kon had told, Cass had been the least outwardly excitedly, but the random gifts of baby blankets and pup-sized clothes that had been anonymously left on the foot of Tim and Kon’s bed at random intervals had told a different story, and Tim understood her internal strife over the predicament that Tim had accidently put her in. Cass would come around eventually—Tim was positive of that—but she would hang back and let the rest of the family faun over himself and the baby before she made her presence known at a more private time, and in a lot of ways Tim was very appreciative of that. Tim and Cass had always been close, and Tim would rather that particular introduction happen in a more intimate setting where both Tim and Cass would have more time to process everything that was happening. As it was, Cass settled herself into the free space between Bruce and the chair in the corner that pulled out into a single-person bed, and turned her attention out to the parking lot and the horizon above of it to keep watch as she leaned her head against the large bulge of Bruce’s closest bicep.

Bart and Damian made their way into the room in close succession, and for once in his life, Bart was actually moving slowly. The speedster was still antsy as he twitched and blurred on his feet—that much was obvious even in Tim’s mildly exhausted state—but he was trying to be respectful of Tim and Kon’s wishes, too, and Tim greatly appreciated that. It didn’t take long for Bart to look up and lock eyes with Kon, though, and after he received Kon’s small nod of approval, he burst through the room in a fit of excitement before he could stop himself.

The baby let out a noise of discomfort and wiggled in Tim’s arms as Bart suddenly appeared across from Jason on the bed with one hand supporting his weight in between Tim’s legs and the other settled onto the bundle of blankets in Tim’s arms, but Tim was able to calm him with a soft cooing noise as Bart pulled his hand back in surprise.

Damian bumped Bart in the shoulder with his own as he pushed past where the speedster was still frozen on the bed, but the budding alpha continued into the room until he was standing on the opposite side of the bed from Kon and cradling both the baby and Tim in the crook of his left arm as he leaned down to press a kiss to Tim’s forehead.

“You smell like the close,” Damian complained fondly, his nose still pressed into Tim’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” Tim apologized as Kon snorted quietly and grinned at Damian over the top of Tim’s head, but they both knew that Tim didn’t really mean it.

“Tt—you should be,” Damian finally cracked a small smile as he shifted until he was bent more over the baby than Tim. “And hello, to you, too, you little fuss bucket. I see that you’ve already started to take after your fathers. We’ll fix that eventually.”

The baby had let out another noise of discomfort at Damian’s touch, just like he had with Bart’s, but Damian didn’t pull away. Instead, he kept his arm underneath of Tim’s and let the baby adjust to the new touch and smell, before he finally moved away. Bart’s hand crept back up the bed as Damian moved away, but once again, the baby made a noise of distress as Bart’s hand finally landed tentatively over the folds of fabric at the baby’s elbow.

“Give him a minute,” Damian coached gently as he climbed up on to the bed beside Tim to get comfortable, and Bart froze at the younger man’s suggestion.

Tim had to shift a little in order to make enough room for Damian, but Bart moved with him, and as Damian had predicted the baby settled back down. Bart’s relief was palpable, and Tim ducked down to press a quick kiss to the baby’s forehead as Bart started to gently pet his fingers over what was essentially the baby’s hip.

Clark came in last, taking up the rear and watching as everybody else made their way into the room, before he let the door fall closed behind himself. Of everybody, Tim was pretty sure that the oldest alpha was having the hardest time with Tim and Kon’s baby, and Tim didn’t mind that he was hanging back by the door. Clark had obviously been mesmerized by the little half-Kryptonian the second that he’d crowned, and Tim knew it was only a matter of time before Clark relaxed his walls and admitted that the baby had already wiggled his way up into Clark’s half-frozen heart.

Ma Kent was still in Kansas, and Kara had gone to pick her up, but aside from the two of them and Steph and Babs (who had both decided to avoid the hospital for their own reasons), Tim’s entire pack was standing around him, and the omega took a moment to revel in that fact as he traced the fingers of his free hand over top of the soft skin of his pup’s face. Tim had lost and given up so much since Dick had told him he was pregnant all of those months ago, but every single bit of it had been for the tiny little life that the universe had decided to bless them with, and Tim wouldn’t have changed a single second of it for the world—not when his son had turned out so perfectly.

“Are you sure?” Kon asked one last time as his free hand settled on to the back of Tim’s head, the other one rested over top of the baby’s rapidly rising and falling stomach.

“Yeah,” Tim nodded his head as he looked back over his shoulder at his alpha and ignored the curious eyes on them as he did so.

“Okay,” Kon nodded his head, too, leaning down to peck Tim’s lips softly, and Tim stared up at him for just a couple of seconds more before he took a deep breath and turned his attention back to his pack.

“Everybody, I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our family,” Tim addressed them with as much pride and confidence as his overly hormonal state could afford him, before he looked back down at the baby in his arms and smiled as said baby’s hand latched onto his proffered pointer finger. “Jonathan Bartholomew Kent.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I apologize for taking so long to update, but unfortunately, familial and medical emergencies can’t always be predicted. I have not forgotten about this piece or any of you guys reading, but I have not been in a physical or mental state to keep up my regular editing schedule. I have (hopefully) one last emergency procedure scheduled for tomorrow (Monday) morning, but it will restrict the movements of both of my shoulders for a couple of days, so I probably won’t be able to post the next chapter for another two weeks or so. Continuing to edit and post this story will be one of my top priorities when I come back, as always, but putting off this procedure is not an option.   
> Please feel free to leave feedback, and let me know what you think :)!


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